


bad religion

by slowlange



Series: problematique [random explicit one shots] [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, Gon Freecss (Mentioned) - Freeform, Killua is 18, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowlange/pseuds/slowlange
Summary: There were a series of events that brought Killua to the front of his best friend’s father’s bedroom door. It took years of contemplation, rationalization, shameful nights, and pressure to get him where he was tonight. He’d been battling with these complex, immoral feelings for so long he stopped searching for the answers. Shifting his focus from solving futile problems helped him greatly as he balanced maintaining appearances with Gon while keeping his desires at bay. Though, the solution he came up with really didn’t help with the latter scenario.He sighed, covering his face with tired hands. Gon was a heavy sleeper, anyway. He wouldn’t miss him.
Relationships: Ging Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Series: problematique [random explicit one shots] [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045038
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42
Collections: Sin x Bin





	bad religion

**Author's Note:**

> just a little one shotty shot that i wanted to write up real quick ~  
> i am becoming a big rarepair bitch... like damn... HAHA  
> anyway, hope you enjoy this quick little thing! it honestly isn't as ~in depth~ out as i would do normally, just a fun little thing, killua fucking his best friend's dad you know.

There were a series of events that brought Killua to the front of his best friend’s father’s bedroom door. It wasn’t easy to summarize on any level, but if he were to try, it would go like this.

When they were kids, Ging wasn’t the most present parental figure. It was normal for him to be at work, on a business trip, or whatever happened to come up at the time. Killua was always more familiar with Aunt Mito, anyway. It didn’t phase him.

He doesn’t remember the specific day or month, but at some point in their freshman year, Ging started picking up Gon from school, and in turn, Killua too. He didn’t think too much about it; it wasn’t a change that really affected him. And Gon was clearly happy about it, bubbly and shiny in the passenger seat as Ging maneuvered his way down the curvy streets. If Gon was happy, he didn’t need to think more about the situation.

But there were times, more often than not as he started to grow older, that Killua became more and more conscious of when Ging was around. His stomach would drop when he walked into a room, whole body stirring with something he felt he didn’t have the knowledge or context to understand back then. 

Warmth, when Gon would talk about him over the phone. Fluster, when he and Ging would talk, from the short exchanges to the memorable ones (though they all became memorable at some point). Excitement, when Ging would retrieve them in the afternoons. Even more of it when he would take them out and sit around a table, talking about God knows what over burgers and fries. 

There were so many explanations that could have been applied to Killua’s strange attraction towards Ging. It didn’t  _ have  _ to be a crush, nor did he think it was at first. As a person, he was cool, interesting, and someone that both he and Gon looked up to as they got to know him more. So much so, that the question of why he suddenly reappeared in their--mostly Gon’s--life didn’t even matter. He was here. 

Killua wishes, selfishly, that he’d kept his distance once he realizes that the jittery sensation he gets around Ging isn’t necessarily the admiration he thought it was.

It took years of contemplation, rationalization, shameful nights, and pressure to get him where he was tonight. Killua didn’t have all the answers at eighteen. He’d been battling with these complex, immoral feelings for so long he stopped searching for them. Shifting his focus from solving futile problems helped him greatly as he balanced maintaining appearances with Gon while keeping his desires at bay. Though, the solution he came up with really didn’t help with the latter scenario.

The plan, one he’d been working up the nerve to put into play since he was fifteen, was to let it all out in the open. It had gotten to a point on his end where he couldn’t do anything without thinking about Ging. His crush had blown up, unraveling into an infatuation that couldn’t be contained at its intensity. There’s no guarantee it works, but Killua’s run through the possibilities over a thousand times, and he’s ready for any outcome. Even if it means losing Gon in the process.  _ Anything  _ to be free of his sins.

Between Ging and Gon, Killua concluded that it would be easier to talk to Ging. As familiar as he was with the both of them, he and Gon were far too close to have this kind of conversation upfront. He wouldn’t even be able to get a word out. And besides, who wanted to hear about their best friend’s obsessive crush on their Dad? It wasn’t exactly a normal conversation to have.

So here he stood. His eyes tensed, focused on the jagged pattern of the wood as he tried to ignore the voices that draw him back to Gon’s bedroom.  _ Go back _ , they said.  _ Just go to sleep _ .

But if he were to return, there would be no sleep. He would lie awake, head churning with endless thought, and cock undeniably hard at the mere idea of Ging being a couple of doors down from them. If he went back, there would be no point to this; no point of plotting and convincing himself to get up and do this. It would all go to waste, and he would be back at square one, with nothing but wisps of moments to cling to each night, nursing a doomed attraction to a man he can never have past this  _ kiddie  _ shit. What did he expect? There was no conceivable future for them where Ging expressed any interest in him outside of him being his son’s friend. He had to nip this in the bud  _ now _ .

He sighed, covering his face with tired hands. Gon was a heavy sleeper anyway; he wouldn’t miss him.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Killua knocked on the same door he’d been drilling holes into, fist lingering in the air as the sound echoed throughout the house. Despite Gon being a heavy sleeper, Killua’s heart still stopped as he listened, waiting to see if he’d stir. Before there’s a chance, though, the door swings wide open, and Ging’s barely lean figure appears, replacing the heavy presence of the door. 

“Killua? You’re still up?”

_ Stick to the script, Killua. _

“Yeah um,” He scratches the back of his head, “can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Ging leans on the door frame and Killua purses his lips.

“I-Inside? I don’t uh…” He doesn’t want to outright tell Ging that this was a private conversation, but Ging seems to get the idea, turning perpendicular to let him inside the bedroom.

“Whatever you want…” Ging’s voice trails off into silence as Killua takes careful steps into the bedroom. He picks up on the click of the door shutting, eyes taking in everything that’s offered to him. It’s cleaner than he expected, a distant scent of heavy cologne wafted about the room.

“This couldn’t wait until the morning?” Ging snaps the thread between Killua and the intoxicating smell.

“I mean, no, not really,” Killua responds, backing up against his dresser. “I don’t think I could say something tomorrow.”

“Is it serious?”

And like that, it’s Killua’s worst nightmare playing out. He opens his mouth, knowing the exact words he needs to say, but nothing comes out.

“Killua. Do I need to call your dad?”

Why does he see Gon in the back of his mind? Why  _ now  _ of all times? Eyes wide with horror, he tries to focus on anything else. The walls, the blinds that rested against, the window, the lamp; nothing seemed to do the trick, his friend’s face, blessed with sunshine and utter kindness that Killua knew he was taking advantage of. He smacks his forehead once, twice, as many times as he can as if he can physically shake him out of his mind. It hadn’t registered that Ging was still across from him, absolutely mortified as he watched Killua quite literally fall apart before his eyes.

“Hey, hey, what the hell is going on, kid?”

And suddenly he’s  _ so close _ , so close Killua could suffocate on the stronger version of the scent he’d picked apart before. His nose filled with it, and any image of Gon was now a blur, foggy and unplaceable as Ging presses closer.

“Killua you gotta talk.”

He does. He does. What was he supposed to be saying, anyway? The script was long gone, and even if he tried to remember, he was much too sensitive now to recite it. Every part of his body is on end, vulnerable and bared naked for him. All that time, all that preparation, and he still stood so weak and helpless in the presence of everything he’s wanted.

Ging doesn’t know what he’s doing, the way he leans down to peer into his eyes and finds the answers he’s looking for. It’s laughable to watch Ging try to put together the pieces of a puzzle Killua took eons to solve. It heartened him, slightly, a small laugh slipping past and between them as he tips his head up to stare back. What is there to lose, at this point?

“What’s going--”

Killua wouldn’t have opted to kiss him. He’ll blame his adrenaline and teenage hormones later when the night leaves and the morning returns, but for now, he goes the shift of his equilibrium. Ging’s facial hair tickles his chin ever so slightly, before Killua pulls away abruptly, the phantom touch of his contrastingly soft lips all that’s left. His body vibrates with excitement at the indulgent, just in time for the panic to truly settle.

“Killua…”

_ Fuck _ .

“I…”

He had to explain. He  _ had to _ now.

“Is this what you had to tell me?

“...Yes.”

“You’re going to need to elaborate.” Ging reaches to touch his lips thoughtlessly, his other hand still frozen in defense at his side. “Now.”

“I’m…attracted to you?” Killua’s voice raises an octave as he dives into it, nervous as ever to have his intimacies out and aired like dirty laundry, “I know it’s weird, but it’s been happening for a while, and I just wanted to tell you.”

He takes a breath before adding for good measure, “I didn’t mean to kiss you. I’m sorry.”

The silence that comes afterward is the most unbearable part of this whole thing. Watching Ging’s face contort into expressions Killua had never seen before in all his time of knowing him. He looks…stressed? Confused? He didn’t even want to consider anger as a possibility.

It took a few minutes but eventually, Ging rises to meet him again. There’s a mellow feel to it, but Killua isn’t in a state where he feels that he’s safe from an unexpected rage. Not until he speaks.

“I can work with this.”

“What do you mean?”  _ Work with this? _

“I mean, you’re here. We might as well.”

Killua’s heart lodges itself against his ribs and pushes urgently to be free. There’s no way that he’s hearing what he’s hearing. His legs wobble and Ging chuckles as if he’s seen it himself.

“Are you surprised?”

He nods.

“I don’t mind, it’s okay. I’m flattered. So, if you want, I’ll help you out.”

“I-I’m not following…”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Dumbstruck, Killua gives a wordless nod. He hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even considered this in his endless list of ways tonight could go. He’d even allowed himself to wander beyond the rational, wonder what would happen if things were to play out like they were right now in front of his very eyes. Ging, completely accepting and irrationally encouraging his uncapped feelings. The scenarios in his mind were much more comforting and less earth-shattering than the one now.

“You’re eighteen,” Ging says, though the words register a beat after they’re said, “I’m not going to baby you. If you want me to do it, I will.”

He nods again. Ging scoffs.

“Say it--”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Killua watches, with a new sense of eagerness, as Ging removes his shirt and tosses it to the ground. He’d never seen him without a shirt, only taking in sneaky glances of the man in skimpy muscle shirts when he worked out in Gon’s basement. This was significantly different.

“I’m assuming you don’t want Gon to know?”

He shakes his head, only to be met with the same reprimand.

“Speak.” There’s a presiding tone to it that resembles that of a guardian. Killua’s mouth waters at the demand.

“No. Just us.”

“Good. No problem.” Ging towers over him then, arms placed firmly at both sides of his hips as they move up against the mattress. “I won’t squeal if you don’t.”

“Deal,” Killua manages to squeak out before Ging dips down and kisses him, lips slotting together with sickly ease. The first things that pop into his mind are  _ wrong _ ,  _ get out _ , but they melt into their opposites when Ging drags his pajama pants down his quivering legs. All forms of cognition and awareness were making their leave with every press of their lips, every thud of Killua’s heart. He felt it  _ everywhere _ .

His shirt, then their boxers, even socks are removed from the picture until they’re both stark naked, Killua feeling completely out of place on the bed, an element that simply didn’t belong. This was Ging’s room, his territory, and he’d invited himself in. But, Ging hasn’t necessarily done anything about it yet.

“Have you ever had sex before?” Ging asks, reaching into his bedside drawer.

“I…” Killua loses his focus as he watches him jostle some objects around, pulling out a condom and a small bottle of lube, “I uh, I have.”

“So this isn’t new to you.”

“No…” A curious hand traverses up the span of his inner thigh, Ging’s touch much gentler than Killua had assumed it would be. Ging always seemed like an aggressive man, from what he’s observed over time. To be graced with such a sudden, contrasting sensation, was intoxicating. He almost, against his better judgments, felt special. Felt like the only one that got to be touched like this by him.

“Good.” He says, pulling away. “I like to work with a little experience.”

It shouldn’t surprise Killua, the way Ging is treating him. Ging doesn’t see him as “his best friend’s son” right now. In the back of his mind, he expected to be treated with a bit more care and caution, considering the nature of their relationship. But at the same time, to be put at the same level as anyone else was a breath of fresh air as much as it was a reality check. There was no intimacy in this bedroom, tonight. Just lust. That was the reality of it. And it was a reality that Killua was more than happy to accept as he zeroed in on Ging’s cock, waving hungrily in front of his face.

It’s this realization that brings Killua to his knees, to lay down in front of him, itching to do something,  _ anything  _ to him.

“You want to?” Ging puts it together, reaching to take ahold of himself and press the head of his cock to Killua’s open, pliant mouth. He doesn’t bother to use his words this time, closes his mouth sharply before suctioning and swirling his tongue as he inches down. The sigh that leaves Ging’s lips is one he wishes he could hear on a loop, a hum escaping his lips as his hand tugs at his snowy hair.

“Like that…” Ging whispers when Killua glances up at him for approval. He returns, opening his mouth to let his tongue drag gently against the underside of his cock. Killua had done this countless times before. It was different this time. He had something to prove.

It doesn’t take much to have Ging bucking into his mouth, cock slipping past sweet rosy lips at a hard pace. Killua, having discovered his lack of a gag reflex many blowjobs ago, handles him like a professional, forces himself off of Ging to swipe at his balls with his pert tongue before mouthing on the supple skin and dragging airy, wet sounds from him.

Ging pulls Killua by his hair, grip tighter than before as he guides him backward.

“Let’s get to it,” He murmurs, and Killua is pleased to see his cock still leaking, an added glisten from his own spittle. His heart rate picks up again when Ging returns and presses a heavy kiss to his lips. Killua returns languidly, as the former does most of the work, taking the lead in their heated dance. His facial hair had become a non-issue, Killua even taking it upon himself to pull away and nip at his jaw. 

Ging’s hand dips between Killua’s thighs quickly and his eyes fall open as he feels a digit circling around his hole.

“Shit…” He gasps as the first finger slides in.

“Feels good?” Ging asks him that for the first time tonight, to which Killua lets out a hushed, “Yes.”

Ging curls his finger once he’s fully inside, scraping silk walls as he explores deeper. Killua’s hips arch off the bed, but he’s brought back down by the force of Ging’s free hand taking care of the weight of his pleasure with ease. He slips another finger in without a second to spare.

Killua wants to moan, loud and unbridled, but he does his best to keep himself under control, no matter the struggle. Ging certainly isn’t making it easy. His cock bobs weakly by his stomach, untouched pre dripping onto his navel. He whimpers at the sight and pushes down against the friction burning beneath him.

“More,” he whispers greedily, “another one, please.”

But Ging refuses, spreading his fingers wide and thrusting deep a couple more times before pulling and out and taking a wet cry from Killua’s mouth with it.

“Hush,” He scolds, “Don’t want to wake him up, do you?”

“No…” Killua whispers. Ging orders him to turn on all fours, to which he complies. He can’t bring himself to turn around and watch him rip the condom open, for some reason. Perhaps it’s reality, crashing down and piercing his fantasy with its broken glass. 

He sighs, takes a deep breath, and endures it. There’s so much wrong with this, but he wants it. He  _ needs  _ it. To  _ feel  _ it.

Ging teases his hole gently, and Killua clenches around the minimal contact, immediately brought back to the present. The present where Ging is about to fuck him, a fantasy he’s jerked himself to for God knows how long. 

“Ready?” He breathes, his golden eyes swimming with hunger and passion, both directed towards him. Towards  _ Killua _ . All he can say is yes before Ging presses in, cock rendering him speechless as he’s met with an unthinkable stretch. It takes a lot of his energy to hold back the loud gasps and moans he wants to release into the air. Ging’s arm crosses his chest, their sticky sweat combining as he bottoms out behind Killua. They take a moment, Killua tightening around Ging’s thick length every once in a while as he takes deep breaths, exhaling against his shoulder. The first hard thrust sends a shock through his body, and tears a moan from his lips that Killua is certain Gon would hear if he woke up. 

“You’re being loud,” Ging snaps as he covers his mouth, and Killua lets out a muffled whimper against his fingers. His hips slap down against his ass once more. “Should I keep my hand here?”

Killua nods. Certainly not what either of them expected to hear, but this is Ging he’s with. He’ll…work with it, after all.

“Fine by me.”

There’s a shuffling behind him, most certainly Ging readjusting himself to a position better suited for the change. His hand squeezes against the sides of his cheeks roughly before he resumes and Killua fights against the grip, moaning once more. The pace picks up, the drag of Ging’s cock inside of him sparking some of the best sensations he’s ever felt in his life. It’s a combination of things; the depravity of it all, the sexual tension that’s finally being released after years of lonely nights spent with him and his sin, the elation of being touched by someone he craves to be touched by.

Killua’s muscles graciously accept Ging’s every thrust, the harsh power behind his movement gradually becoming less of a pain and more of a pleasure. It’s easier when Ging presses soft kisses to his shoulder blades, and lets his thumb break formation to rub the skin above his cheekbone.

Sex is freedom at its finest, and Killua hasn’t lost his sense of that tonight. Sugary-sweet freedom at his fingertips, all his to devour. His legs spread further, even more willing than before to be absolutely ruined. A pleasant sound comes from Ging and he slows, changing tempo and digging in deeper with each thrust. The familiar signs of his orgasm begin to make an appearance, his chest tightening as he feels arousal pool at his dribbling cock. 

“I-hh gonff cum--” Killua groans behind his muzzle.

“Me too,” He pants, speeding up and pushing them both across the finish line, “God, so fucking  _ tight  _ Killua.”

And as Killua cums into the sheets untouched with him, his name moaned from Ging’s lips a constant echo through it all, chills wracking his small frame and unable to handle the force of his orgasm, there is peace on the horizon. He could cry. The relief overwhelms him.

Ging uncovers his mouth rather quickly once they both return to Earth, turning Killua on his back. It’s strange to be able to breathe and speak freely again, something he didn’t make a note of until after. His eyes close as he tries to catch his breath, reliving the last few seconds he’d just had with Ging before it all came crashing to a close. His cock and hole still tingled with excitement, despite Killua’s utter positivity The daydream is interrupted when a wad of paper towels is thrust in front of him. Killua takes it, offering his thanks before sitting up against the pillows and cleaning himself up. 

“So…that’s it?” He balls up the paper towel before tossing it in the wastebin beside the bed.

“That’s it.” Ging reaches for his pants.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Killua, I just…we just…why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” He says truthfully, “this has all been very strange and I don’t really know how to handle it.”

“Look,” Ging takes his chin in his hand after tying the drawstring on his sweats, “I don’t mind fucking you. Only as long as it doesn’t go any further.”

“Right.”

“Because it can’t.”

“No no, I get it.” And deep down Killua does have some semblance of an understanding after having all the tension he’d been building up. It’s a breath of fresh air. There’s still an intense air that lingers when this close to him, but it’s nowhere near as suffocating as before. There’s room to breathe. He can take a step back, remember where he is and what’s really going on.

And Killua understands that it might not last forever. He could wake up tomorrow and want it just as badly as he did tonight, but he willingly ignores it, asks Ging for one last kiss before departing back to Gon’s bedroom where he crawls under the sheets beside his friend and flips through the images of tonight, still distinct and tangible as he fell into his slumber.

He’d give himself to Ging every night behind his friend’s back if it meant getting it all and feeling a sliver of peace before the night ended. 

There was no future for them. But there was now. And that’s all Killua wanted to worry about.

**Author's Note:**

> welp, that's that on that.  
> thank you if you read <3 will be back with more soon!  
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/slowlange) for some yelling and some other fun stuff


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